


Five Femslash Bingo Fics

by Oparu



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Once Upon a Time (TV), Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Arranged Marriage, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Femslash February Trope Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3455441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverly Crusher and Kathryn Janeway play SSR vs Leviathan on the holodeck. (Spies AU, Agent Carter as a holonovel)</p><p>Jemma and Skye watch a baby. (Accidental Baby Acquisition)</p><p>Peggy and Angie have breakfast. (Domesticity)</p><p>Skye meets the Lady Melinda, elven ruler of the starlit wood. (High Fantasy, LOTRish)</p><p>Emma and Regina agree to marry to take advantage of a protection spell that can only be cast during a royal wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Agent Janeway

_Spies - Kathryn/Beverly_

Kathryn caught her breath, leaning against the hall as she pulled her side arm from beneath her dress. She had to get out of the apartment building, get to a safe house, before SSR agents closed in. Was Beverly working for them? Was she working for the even more sinister Leviathan? She had the vial of blood, she was supposed to hang onto that, keep it safe, she knew that part. She just needed to get out of the building, and she couldn't really repel down with the slightly ridiculous costume she was wearing. Pencil skirts certainly didn't make it easy to escape. 

Pondering tearing the skirt, she put the vial of blood into her little hand bag, for safe keeping, and rounded the corner. 

Beverly was in the hallway. Damn her. Was she undercover? She emerged from the dancer's room, wearing the dancer's clothes, so that was her character. She was the dancer. The over-eager, slightly too adorably perky dancer from Iowa. Her hair looked amazing in finger curls, and her sweater clung in just the right way. She grabbed her, hugging her. 

"I'm just so glad you're okay. Angie had us all worried about you."

Just a hug? Maybe Beverly's character was on her side after all. Perhaps she would help her escape. 

Then Beverly's lips were against hers, soft and warm, teasing even as Kathryn's own started to go numb. 

"You're wearing my shade." 

It was her lipstick. It was the damn bright red that Kathryn had used to trick that nightclub owner back in chapter two. Beverly must have stolen it. 

So unfair. Kathryn tugged at her wrist, exposing the scar that marked her as a Leviathan spy. 

Beverly stroked her forehead. "Sleep well," she murmured, before everything faded black. A mild sedative wasn't considered to be dangerous enough for the holodeck safety protocols to prevent it, and it would let Beverly get a head start for the next chapter, but still. It was entirely unfair. She looked really good in that shade of red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beverly could play (or be) an amazing Black Widow agent, with her dance skills. I've watched the Agent Carter kiss too many times to resist it though.


	2. Only a couple of hours

_Accidental Baby Acquisition - Skye/Jemma, Agents of SHIELD_

"It's an abuse of gender stereotypes," Jemma complained. "Just because we're women doesn't mean we know anything about taking care of a baby." 

Bobbi shrugged. "Our choices are you and Skye look after the baby, while I lead the team through one of the old cities, trying to find her parents, or we leave the baby with Lance and Fitz, while you, Skye, May and I look for the baby's parents."

Fitz shook his head. "My hands still aren't steady, I might, I might drop her." 

Lance shrugged and grinned down at the baby in Skye's arms. "She's pretty cute."

"Until she spits up on you."

May sighed and looked at Skye. "She might have powers."

"Hopefully not like mine," Skye muttered. A baby trying to use her weird mutant powers would be worse than her lack of control, but only just.

"You can make sure she feels safe, being around someone else like her, and Simmons can run some blood tests."

Skye pulled the baby, whoever she was, closer to her chest. "You mean she has to be pokey?"

"I'll be gentle," Jemma promised. 

Skye looked at May and Bobbi once again then nodded. "Okay, but we don't have to clean up when you get back. You guys have to."'

"What do we even do with a baby?" Skye asked as Lance grabbed his icer. 

He slipped the weapon into his holster. "Rock her, feed her, change her or sing to her when she cries. Kids are pretty easy."

Bobbi made a face and muttered something under her breath but nodded a little. "It'll only be for a couple of hours."

It wasn't, of course. It was many hours, and overnight, before they came back. The baby was pretty good. She only cried a little when Jemma took her blood, and Skye could totally sympathise with that. They managed to mix up formula without burning anyone or making too much of a mess. Baby threw up the first batch, all over Skye's shirt, but she'd kept the second batch down, and seemed pretty happy with being fed and held. She looked around a lot, flung her arms and legs out and made weird little noises, but she seemed kind of okay. 

Eventually she even fell asleep. Wrapped up in Skye's arms as she sat gingerly on the sofa and tried not to move. Her t-shirt had started to dry, crunchy and kind of stinky with baby vomit. Jemma sat next to her, staring down at the baby's closed eyes with a really cute smile, until she noticed Skye's shirt. 

"Oh dear."

"Yeah."

"Maybe you should take it off?" Jemma suggested. 

"I don't want to wake her up," Skye said. Her left arm had fallen asleep ages ago anyway. 

"It's after midnight, we could probably put her down." 

Skye glanced down at the little face snuggled up against her shirt and sighed. "She's not that heavy."

"I know." Jemma reached for the baby, tilting her head towards the crate they'd padded for her to sleep in. It wasn't the most beautiful accommodation, but May said it would do. They just had to remember not to put her in with a blanket. 

"Okay," Skye said. Lifting the baby just a little, she passed the baby to Jemma, who held her close, humming something as she set her down in the crate-bed. Jemma sat back, sighing and shutting her eyes. 

Skye hadn't realised how tired she was. She'd been so content holding the baby, it hadn't matter how late it had gotten. 

"You stink."

Skye tore off her shirt and tossed it at Jemma, laughing softly. "Thanks."

Jemma threw the shirt back. Trying to whisper and fight, they tossed the shirt back and forth a few times before they were close. Too close, and Skye was just in her bra, and yeah, it was that kind of silly red bra, but Jemma seemed to like it. 

Kissing was quiet enough that the baby slept on and it was good. At least, for a few minutes, anyway.


	3. not really work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really minor spoilers for the end of the first series

_Domesticity - Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli, Agent Carter_

"I made breakfast," Angie called down the long corridor of their borrowed home. It was nicer than renting, and it was considerably easier not to have to hide what she did at night or when she came home. 

Peggy yawned. "I do hope you've made tea as well."

Angie shrugged, wrapped in her adorable robe. She stood over the stove, grinning. "I have coffee."

"That will do."

"You were in late," Angie said. Coffee splashed into Peggy's cup and she clung to it, grateful. "Can you talk about it?"

"Long night in the office."

"No nasty bruises today?"

Peggy smiled. "No, I am happy to report that I am relatively bruise free." 

"That's great." Angie dropped two huge, thick, very American pancakes on a plate in front of Peggy and passed it over. "You want bacon?"

"With pancakes?"

"It's traditional. At least, in some parts of the country. I think it's pretty good."

As long as she had coffee, Peggy really didn't care what she was eating, and the combination of the sweetness of pancakes and the sharper, saltiness of the bacon was delicious. "You don't have to cook for me," she insisted as she picked up her fork. "I don't want our home to be a place where you have to work."

"I'm a waitress at the diner, not a cook. There's a difference. If you want to slap my ass and tell me how cute I am while I fill your coffee, then we might have issues, but this, this is good." Angie smirked as Peggy put far too big a bite of pancakes into her mouth. "Good, right?"

Chewing before she swallowed, Peggy nodded, then blushed, because she did have to agree that Angie did look great. "Exceedingly."

"I thought so."


	4. Lady of the Starlit Wood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melinda just has that kind of unearthly beauty where she'd made a great elf.

_High Fantasy - May/Skye, Agents of SHIELD_

Coulson, the blue wizard, pulled his deep blue robe tighter around him while the fire crackled. He sat behind her, comfortable and quiet. He had another name, of course, everyone but her seemed to have two or three names. She was no one. An orphan from Bree with no possessions, save an old ring that Coulson seemed to be concerned about. She had no parents and no real social skills, as everyone kept reminding her.

Yet Coulson had found her, living in the wagon she called home, and brought her on this journey. They were an eclectic company: two dwarves, a wizard, a ranger, and her, a nobody of no significance. The ranger could fight, and he brooded, a lot, but he kept them safe. The two dwarves were some of the most intelligent people she'd met. One built with his hands and one knew the healing arts, and the ways of plants and stones. Jemma said she'd learned from elves, and she knew so much that it seemed to be true, although, Skye still wasn't sure of the existence of elves. She'd heard of elves, but they were too weird, too long-lived, too magical. Elves were half out of this world. One foot on their own rocky shore and one on the far away land to the west, wherever it was. What ever it was.

She knew hobbits. She'd grown up on the edge of the Shire and she did work for them sometimes. Minor stuff, testing their locks, making sure their windows were secure. Working for hobbits always paid well, and came with food, so she didn't turn it down. Dwarves were noisier, more boisterous, and more clever than she'd expected. (Hobbits never spoke that highly of dwarves). Jemma and Fitz were always working, arguing, making things and wondering. The people she'd known in Bree had quiet lives, that they tried to keep neat and orderly. Jemma and Fitz hadn't left their underground home before, so they were constantly startled by the birds and the trees yet they knew so much.

They were also never quiet. She fell asleep listening to them argue by the smoke of the fire as they walked further through the woods. Coulson said a darkness was rising. He could feel it. Must have been a wizard thing. He never went to much detail. There was a darkness, of red and black, rising in the east, and it was something they were wise to fear.

She didn't know what part she'd play, or why Coulson thought it was so important to bring her along, but it was nice, being on the road, exploring, listening to Jemma and Fitz' stories of the Iron Hills, and all the wonders underground. They had special lights, that burned without smoke, and long seats that they lowered down so they could mine deep into the earth. She'd only ever ducked her way into hobbit holes. She had a knack with old things, magic things, that the owners had long ago forgotten what they did. She didn't think that was a reason to bring her along on this trip, but she liked the journey. They were good friends, this strange company.

The smell of pipeweed drifted on the wind, mixing with the fire. The stars peered down lazily through the thick trees. The stars were beloved of the elves, which she might see, someday. She'd always wondered about elves. Immortal beings who took the lifetime of other creatures to building their homes in the trees. Coulson said they were leaving, and that they might see some, heading west. Watching the stars and wondering what the elves saw in them, Skye fell asleep.

Hooves thundered around them, circling closer, and closer. Their poor little pony, Bussa, whinnied in fear and tramped into the remnants of the fire, scattering dust and embers into the cool morning air.

Horses, tall and sleek, with even taller, sleeker figures upon them turned inward, circling their company and the fire. Coulson whispered to the poor pony and she quieted, her breathing slowing as the horses around them snorted and stilled. 

Coulson was unafraid. Jemma and Fitz clung to axes and the ranger had his swords. Skye just stared upward, following the legs of the horse, then the legs of the elf wrapped around the horse's ribs. 

Her armour was wrapped in leather, soft and deep blue. It clung to her legs, her hips and her chest, like shadow, or the sky, waiting for stars to brighten the night. Her dark, nearly black, hair hung over her shoulders, flowing down from her helmet. Skye had never seen anyone so beautiful. The other elves wore dark armour, and copper capes, as if they'd been wrapped in autumn. The leader's cape was blue, and full of tiny stars. Perhaps they were jewels, maybe pearls, and perhaps the dwarves would know. Skye couldn't take her eyes away. 

Coulson and the elf spoke, their tongues light with the strange elven words. Skye didn't know what they said, only that the elf's dark eyes fixed on her as if they could see through her. 

Then her voice, commanding and soft, using alien words, filled Skye's thoughts. 

_"What darkness do you bring to our borders?"_

Skye didn't know how to answer, or even if she could. She stared back, losing herself in the immortal face of the elf who sat above her. No creature on earth should be capable of such beauty, and the sword in her hand promised a quick death in Skye betrayed her. 

It wasn't darkness. She tried to reply. It was just an old ring. Nothing important, like she was unimportant. 

That brought the hint of a smile to the elf's face, and she spoke in words Skye knew. "You are more important than you realise." Her eyes had the same warmth as the stars when she looked at Skye. Then, as the sun rose, she knew she was safe.


	5. safety

_Arranged Marriage - Emma Swan/Regina Mills, Once Upon a Time_

"No," Emma said, staring at her parents. Horror didn't quite cover the look on her face. "We can't do that."

"It's a royal spell, it has to be cast by the two rulers of the kingdom." Her mother said, trying to be helpful. 

"Can't you two do it?"

The two idiots looked at each other. "We had our chance to cast the royal protection spell when we were married."

Emma sighed. "And you used it on Regina, didn't you?"

"Well, yes," Snow said. "Of course, neither of us have any magical ability, so it was really more of a formality. Which explains why wasn't very effective."

Swirling her cup, Emma didn't look up. Regina didn't blame her. Emma's parents' desperate concern radiated across the diner, along with their voices. 

"It clarifies the line of succession," her mother said. 

"It will legally unite the kingdom, legitimise Henry, and prevent Maleficent and Ursula from working their magic on town, at least for awhile," her father added. "I know it's awkward."

"The last time Regina was forced to marry someone it really didn't end well." Emma couldn't meet her mother's eyes. "I can't do that to her." 

Snow reached for her hand and squeezed it. "This is different."

"How?" Emma sighed. "I really don't see how it could be. She doesn't want to marry me any more than she wanted to marry your father."

Her father patted her shoulder. "You don't have to be 'married'," he reminded her. "Just share a castle-"

"It's a house."

"A nice house," her mother interrupted.

"For sake of the spell, it's your castle. You share the castle, share a little bit of your lives, and together, protect the town. You don't have to do anything else." 

"She'll never go for it."

Regina sighed, set down her coffee, and walked across the diner to sit between David and Emma. "I can hear you, you know. If you must discuss the possibility of me wedding your daughter, perhaps you could do it in a more private setting."

Emma blushed pink and looked at the table. "Sorry."

David looked around and shrugged. "It's just us."

Regina followed his gaze around. Somehow, perhaps when she'd stood, everyone else who'd been in the diner had disappeared. How fantastic. 

"Why don't you sit?" Snow offered. Neal must have been with Granny. She couldn't resist the little prince. 

"Let me try to get this straight, you want to try and invoke the royal protection spell over the town, and for some ridiculous reason, you think I should marry your daughter?"  
\----

She would have threatened an unpleasant end to anyone who had even joked that she'd end up marrying the saviour, yet here she was, dressed in her favourite suit, waiting for Emma's idiotic parents to turn up with the rings. Emma hadn't worn jeans, which Regina had been nearly willing to bet with David that she would. They'd kept it as quiet as those two could keep anything, and other than Belle, who was the closest thing they had to a lawyer, or was at least willing to read up enough to pretend to be one, and the irritating Blue Fairy, it was only family. 

Henry stood in the corner, dressed neatly in a suit coat that made him look a little older than he was. He stood with David, somewhat reluctantly holding his uncle, though Henry was so good with the baby, he never seemed to trust himself. They'd tried to explain that it wasn't a real marriage and Henry had shared Emma's concerns that Regina was being forced into another marriage she didn't want. 

She'd tried not to protest to vigorously. She didn't want to marry Emma, that would be foolish, but she was far from the brutal terror in her gut that she'd felt prior to marrying Leopold. 

David and Snow stood at either side of them, holding the sword and shield of the Kingdom. Two white and two red roses, and the candles they'd need for the final setting of the spell. 

"Cut your forearm," Regina whispered when the dagger went to Emma. "It heals better than your palm. I don't know why they also cut there on television programmes."

"I was hoping I could get away with a finger tip?" Emma whispered back. 

Regina had to shake her head. "The blood has to flow down the blade, fall onto the shield and then the petals need to be dropped into it."

Emma's second try was awkward, and rather than let her suffer, Regina took the dagger. "We can take turns."

After the ritual barbarity of blood letting and repeating the outdated vows of the kingdom, she stood in front of Emma, holding a bandage on her aching arm. They could simply kiss for an instant to seal the spell. 

That was what she expected, a perfunctory brushing of the lips before they retreated to Regina's house to rearrange the spare room for Emma. Henry was thrilled to have both his moms under one roof. Emma was relieved to be out of her parent's tiny apartment, and so far, Regina had enjoyed her company. It was nice to have a glass of wine with an adult after Henry had gone up to bed. Emma didn't mind doing the dishes, and she liked eating, which made cooking for her and Henry immediately enjoyable. 

She'd never had this sort of relationship. A modern give and take, attempt to be balanced relationship. There were so many things she'd been expected to be as Leopold's queen. Emma, so far, only worried for Regina's happiness. She was polite, of course, that's what it was. It was just her being nice, as she was, sometimes when Regina never quite understood why. 

The kiss changed everything, because that shuddered through her as if she'd turned to sand. She caught her breath, watching Emma's shy smile, and realised slowly that this was what a wedding kiss was meant to be. This felt like a fairy tale. Of course, it wouldn't go anywhere. It was simply for convenience. 

The kiss in the hallway, back in Regina's house, was another story.


End file.
